(Foreigner's 'Cold as Ice' plays over opening credits and voiceover) Living in Houston I was accustomed to miserable heat and humidity but I was, like every other Houstonian, very unaccustomed to our current plight of bitter cold. My power was off and my water pipes were as frigid as Gwyneth Paltrow's pussy. Cabin fever was my only source of heat.  Coupled with the depressing Covid lockdown, a contentious election, and di...

  A wet tongue unerringly trailed up her inner thigh. Instinctively she spread her legs, feeling her sticky pussy lips unglue. The tongue rasped through her folds, wiggled into her silken opening, scooping up her leaking juices, and smeared them on her now throbbing clit. Whimpering, Olivia Chandler looked down. And woke, startled; the fog of lust dissipating when she saw whose face was glistening with her juices. What th...

Eskimos have hundred words for snow. So? I have fifty for vagina. I was indoors watching the weather report of temperatures in single digits. Unimpressive! I use more than a single digit masturbating. Reminded, I snatched my seasonal toy; Frosty with vibrating carrot/nose. It pleased while also improving eyesight. Soon I was pounding my cunny with produce, watching the weathergirl. Her chest looked like a 3-D map of Tibet...

Being Payday I went to the Mars BarFor a Valentines drink, perhaps a Bud. Instead of staying home, fiercely pounding my pud. Then I spotted her with ass wide as a car  As a chubby chaser I loved her girth With a manly nod and smile that was fakeI bought her a jumbo chocolate milkshake My dick was smoldering like fiery scorched earth At my booth she said she was a sex worker With the right man she could be quite randy But...

  Mandy and I had been friends since elementary school. Playing and cheering together. Commiserating over toxic relationships. Even going away to college together. Now in our early thirties, we had drifted apart with emails our only communication. Mandy moved to the mythical land of Orlando while I stayed here, teaching and freezing in northern Ohio. But, absence really does make the heart grow fonder as I discovered when...

Being 2020, my Christmas wish to Santa had to be less frivolous than my normal request for a night with Mila Kunis. This year I would wish for the ability to avenge my most tragic loss. Many years ago my two siblings were captured and killed by a most-wicked witch. A very Grimm story. This year I would wish for the ability to destroy her.  I realize I'm too old to be writing letters to Santa. But, I'm also too old to eat...

  It was a dark and stormy night. I was reminded of that fact by a beagle glaring down at me, hunched over like a vulture, perched on the porch of my destination. I pulled my raspberry beret down snugly for protection from the bitter New York wind. I glanced at the decaying house before me. The years had not been kind. Whereas it once stood majestically on a hill radiating beauty now it was an eyesore; the real estate equ...

Beth Taylor, a fresh-faced twenty-two-year-old, semi-attached lesbian sat in her spartan apartment glancing through travel brochures. Since graduating from THE Ohio State University in the Spring she was determined to do more traveling than a clumsy NBA guard. Her options were even better now, in 2044., Like most her age she was conceived during the pandemic of 2020, the most cursed year of all. Her generation even had a...

  It's a great day for a white wedding. Unfortunately, this bride felt blue. A lesbian wedding is no longer a novelty but remained merely a pipe dream for me until today as I stood in front of loved ones at the rustic Kentucky wedding chapel.  Klea, my bride-to-be, was late. Disappointing but not worrisome since her tardiness was legendary. A bluegrass band was playing either Bruno Mars' "Marry You" or the romantic tear-j...

Barely discernable movements could be detected between two houses on the cul-de-sac. Nearing midnight, the suburban streets were silent. The movements were of a slender young man on a covert mission. His target; the dark house to his right. Only one room lit. Perfect. His gaze immediately was drawn to the light like a moth to a bug zapper. Even in this darkness on the edge of town, he knew the terrain perfectly. This wasn...

Greetings, pervs, and pervettes. I'm Beth, a twenty-six-year-old, who's wandering aimlessly since graduating from UCLA with a degree in Italian Renaissance Literature. With such a practical degree I knew opportunity would soon come banging on my door replacing the student loan vampires currently camped at my Westwood double-wide. Broke and desperate, my nerves were as frayed as the jeans I've worn during my seven years of...

I sat in the comfort of my home, reflecting on the turbulent aftermath of George Floyd's murder as well as the unending quarantine. The looting bothered me, but I understood the rage. I understood as well as any seventy-year-old white woman can. I've lived through social unrest before with civil rights and Vietnam War protests. These days for excitement I'm venturing out in my mask and gloves like a senile proctologist. S...

  In this poppy field we shared our first kiss and lick.  The chanting of the children in the adjacent cornfield drowned out our mutual pleading.   Months later we parted in the same field. I rationalized my tears as allergies. Another transparent lie she ignored.   I blamed her for our demise. A bigger lie even friends dismissed. I still visit the field, self-torture. I can't eat a poppy seed bun without sobbing and/or m...